To Cage The Beast
by Aspiring Mythmaker
Summary: It's not easy to tie up loose ends. When the trap closes on a dangerous underworld kingpin, a group of misfits must work together to escape his compound, or be buried along with him. A group that will later call themselves the Chaotix...


**_Disclaimer :_**_ Sonic the Hedgehog is owned by Sega Corporation. I do not claim ownership of Sonic the Hedgehog franchise or any characters, locations, or concepts contained therein. I only assert ownership of any characters, locations, or concepts originating within this work.  
_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Setting the Stage**

_"You will never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy."_

_Obi-Wan Kenobi_

* * *

Nack's violet fur stood on end as he checked the corners of the hotel room. His hand strayed to the butt of his holstered pistol before he forced himself to relax.

_For the hundredth time,_ he told himself_, it's not a trap. _

The feds might have had the gall to set this up, but they would have taken him the moment he stepped off the plane. And if his "associates" had wanted to get rid of him, they wouldn't have needed to fly him to Station Square to do it. He wasn't going to turn around and see a SWAT team or a bunch of bruisers jump out of his bathroom.

No, it was too much trouble just to pick up a single weasel. Which meant this mobian was here for a reason: there was someone who needed killing.

He tossed his duffel onto the floor and flopped back onto the mattress with a sigh, running his tail across the sheets. _You don't get thread-count like this outside the United Federation, that's for sure.__ In fact, you don't get a lot of things out in the sticks. Like ten million damned humans in a single city._

Central City. Capital of the United Federation, and home to its most beautiful beaches. The Station Square Borough, the oldest in the city, had given even more of itself over to increasingly extravagant resorts since he'd last seen it. It was only June, but tourists already packed the city, filling the hotels to the brim. Even more so, since a freak summer thunderstorm had emptied the beaches, which meant Nack had the pleasure of a thousand whining and bored humans keeping him company.

_Chill out_, he ordered himself_. You're a_ _professional. You can put up with a little-_

The phone on the dresser rang, and he groaned as he answered. "Yeah?"

"Getting settled in, Nack?"

Nack bolted upright, ears pricked forward and eyes hard. "Making myself comfortable. Working off some jet-lag," he said. "And this better be a secure line."

"Quite secure. In any case, now that you're here, I'll need you to get to work."

"Get to work?" he repeated. "I'm not here to change a light bulb. These things take time. I need to collect materials, scout out the target, survey the area-"

"Time you don't have. All the materials you require should be in the drawer next to you. You can get up to speed on the way, but you're going to need to be in position before nightfall."

Nack's hand tightened on the receiver. "This isn't the way I like to do things."

"I have no choice. Events have forced my hand. And you're being rather generously reimbursed, so I would hope you can put your discomfort behind you. Or should I assume you're not up to the job?"

"Of course I'm up to it," Nack snapped.

"Good then. The drawer, if you would, please?"

Nack bit back what he'd been about to say, instead pulling out the drawer and leafing through the neatly stacked pages "Very thorough," he admitted. His hand twitched as he caught sight of his target's face, and he whistled. "And I can see why. Jerome Valentine. You sure don't ask much."

"You shouldn't have any trouble, provided you follow your instructions. As I said, everything you need should be in the drawer."

Nack nodded, eyes narrowing as they fell on the matte-black case in the back of the drawer. "And what is this, exactly?"

"You'll find out. Anyway, I suggest you get going. I'd hate for you to get stuck in traffic."

Nack grimaced as the phone went dead, and he dropped it back onto the cradle before sinking to the mattress. _Not the nice and tidy setup I imagined when I got roped into this little project. And I really don't care for this bastard's tone, whoever he is, or that he's springing all this on me at the last second. _

_Then again, _he reminded himself_, it's a nice payday, and all upfront. And if we really are wrapping this all up tonight then at least I won't have to put up with this jackass for long._

_ Besides,_ he thought with a smirk, _it's not often you get to take a shot at the world's most powerful black-marketeer._

* * *

Rico smacked the front door shut as he stepped outside, cutting off the noises his girlfriend made at him._ I think it's time to find a new place to sleep, _he thought as he pulled his coat on._ Gotten a bit loud here, and flowers aren't the mute button they used to be._

He snorted as the bum on the porch held out his hand, flicking his collar up against the drizzle before stepping onto the sidewalk. _It's started already, _he noted with disgust_._ _And they say we should expect another two days of this crap. _He shivered as water ran down his spine._ I'll get chilled to the bone doing rounds in this, but is she going to care? No, she'll be too busy yakking at me about taking all the hot water when I get home._

_Well, more where she came from. A little sweet-talk, a flash of green in my pocket, and I've got a new place. _He chuckled. _The green definitely helps. If you're going to stand around in the rain, it helps to be well-paid._

His stomach groaned at him. _When I do get another place, I better make sure she can cook. This is the last time I go out for breakfast because someone doesn't know how to make eggs sunny-side up._

The bagel shop was right around the corner, thankfully, and Rico shook out his coat with a sigh as he got out of the rain. Most of the regulars had already left, but the old mom-and-pop who ran the place kept it open until noon for late-sleepers like him. Mobians, but good people, though he often wondered what a couple of rabbits thought about serving pork. He placed an order for an sausage and egg sandwich and kicked back in a booth while he waited.

A while later the bell over the door tinkled, and Rico grinned as he saw a familiar face. "George," he said with a sneer, "long time no see."

The man glared at him, pointedly removing his jacket to reveal the flaming lizard tattoo on his arm before walking to the counter, and Rico snorted. There'd been a time when having a mark like that actually meant something, back when the gangs were in control. Not anymore. With Valentine running the whole show, the inner-city punks were just a bunch of has-beens, extorting "protection fees" and peddling third-rate junk.

He laughed as he shucked off his own jacket, making sure his old 'friend' could see the scarred patch where he'd had a matching design. _Yeah, screw you too George. Keep your ink and pretend you and the rest of those losers are still getting by. Valentine's paying me three times the chicken-scratch you're making, and I don't have to shake down someone's grandma to do it._

The old lady came around, the tray balanced on top of her long ears, something Rico didn't find as queer as when he saw it the first time. Mobians didn't care too much for people who treated them like freak shows, but they looked so much like kids in animal costumes that he always found himself looking for a zipper. Most of them, at least; just thinking about that "crocodile" that Valentine had working security made his skin crawl. The rabbit smiled at him as she set his plate, and he slowly counted out the bills, making sure everyone got a good look at how big his stack was. George stared at the stack, lips white and fists clenched, and then shoved away from the counter and stormed out. _Good decision._

Five minutes later, Rico left his tip and stepped out into the rain again, feeling quite happy with himself. _Best part about working for big money: everyone knows you're working for big money. And they know better than to mess with that kind of firepower._

He had to fight the temptation to hide behind his collar as a cop car came up the street, but it was getting easier. Even better than the money was the peace of mind that came from knowing who was on the Boss's payroll. There were a lot of politicians and thug cops that wouldn't be too happy if someone started hassling Valentine's people.

Including, if the rumors were true, a certain GUN Commander. Not that he was supposed to know that.

He turned down the alley that led to his parking garage, frowning as his thoughts turned once more to women. _If it was sunny, I could hit the beach, but no one will be there now. There's always that new place down by- _

White filled his vision as something came down heavily on the back of his neck, then everything went black.

* * *

The clock struck nine, and Marshal Daniel Williams grunted as the phone on his desk started ringing. _Right on schedule. _He nodded at the deputies gathered with him in the Marshal's Office before picking up the phone on the second ring. "Hello?" he said.

"It's me."

Daniel gave a thumbs up as he recognized the dry voice on the line, and the officers around him went to work on the trace. "I figured it would be. Are you in the clear?"

"For now," the voice said, "But that's subject to change. Things are moving quicker than expected."

"How much faster?" Daniel asked, eyes narrowing at the faintest hint of anxiety in the man's voice.

"I can't give you any specifics. But If you want my help, you need to go tonight."

"Too soon," he replied instantly. "We have the warrants signed and sealed, but we won't be up to strength until tomorrow, at least."

"Tomorrow is too late. By then, I'll either be long gone or at the bottom of the bay. If you want my help, you need to move by 8 o'clock."

_Well, that explains the anxiety. Still..._

"It's still a no-go. If you're telling the truth, Valentine's turned that place into a fortress. I'm not going to commit myself to an operation if I don't have the manpower to dig him out."

"If everything goes according to plan, you shouldn't have to."

Daniel sighed. "The funny thing about plans is they have a tendency to go wrong. Especially when they're made on the basis of anonymous tips."

He looked up at his deputies and got a shake of the head. _Not yet._

"We've been over this. And I've given you more than enough already to verify my credentials. I'm telling you, you've got to go now."

"And I'm telling you, we can't move in with the numbers we have. The officers from Westopolis won't be here until tomorrow afternoon. That's all there is to it."

The line went quiet, and for a moment he worried his contact would hang up. Then...

"You need someone local," the man said. "Valentine has the local PD bought and paid for. You can't trust them. What about GUN?"

Daniel's opened his mouth to disagree, but stopped, eyes narrowing._ The Guardian Units of the Nation. If anyone has the firepower we needed, it's the army. They maintain a full-strength division right here in Central City, so it's not like they can't spare the manpower. Except..._

"What about Commander Tower?" he said cautiously. "He's been stepping pretty damn lightly where Valentine's concerned. I somehow doubt he'd commit GUN troops to an operation like this after spending the last year sitting on his hands."

"You might be surprised what he's willing to commit. And if you don't try, I guarantee you'll never get another chance."

"Alright," Daniel said after a moment's thought. "I'll see what I can do. No promises. If it doesn't work, you're on your own. I can't do anything more for you."

"It'll have to do," his contact said. "Good luck, Marshal Williams."

And then the line went dead.

"Crap." Daniel dropped the phone in disgust. "Did we get the trace?"

"It's no good, Chief," one of the deputies told him. "The signal's bouncing around from here to West Side Island."

"And just how the hell is he doing that? This stuff," Daniel gestured at the setup on his desk, "may be last-gen tech, but it's last-gen _GUN_ tech. What's he got to compete with that?"

No one answered, and he sighed and picked up the phone again. "We'll figure it out later. Right now, I need to see if our local GUN Commander can fit a UF Marshal into his schedule."

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was the pain. It was like someone had gone to work on his skull with a hammer. Blood pounded in his ears, and he gagged as he took a sobbing breath.

_What...where?_

He remembered leaving the bagel shop, turning the corner...and then nothing. _Must have gotten jumped. Stupid, stupid, stupid! I'll never hear the end of this_. His eyes burned, but he opened them anyway, and immediately saw something wasn't right. It was dark, for one, and the sound of the rain on the roof, echoing far above, told him he'd been moved. _This doesn't make any-_

"Hello, Rico."

Rico stiffened, eyes wide. _Oh shit!_ He tried scrambling to his feet, only to collapse with a scream of agony as he put weight on his left leg. He'd broken enough knees in his time to realize his had been completely shattered.

"It would be better if you did not try to move. You will not get far."

Propping himself up gingerly, he whipped his head around, looking for the speaker and finding only an empty warehouse. "Help!" he shouted. "Somebody help me!"

He gasped as something drove into his back, rolling him over and planting his face into the floor. A hand made a fist in his hair, yanking his head back, and he groaned as a foot stepped down on his bad leg. "You waste your breath. No one can hear you."

"Wh-who are you?" Rico managed to sputter. "What the hell do you want?"

"This one does not have a name," the voice said after a moment, and Rico shivered at the reptilian lisp in his voice. "And he has questions for you. If you answer, you will be released without further damage."

"Questions?" He laughed. "You've made a big mistake. I'm working for Valentine, you dumb bastard!"

"If you are truly working for that man, then there is no mistake."

"You're...what?" Rico twisted his head around, trying and failing to get a look at his tormentor. "What are you, a cop?"

"You fail to understand your position."

A hand fastened onto his wrist, and Rico gaped. He could feel the hand, the rough scaliness pressing into his skin, but he couldn't see it! _It's not possible! _Something he couldn't see wrapped around his middle finger, pulling it back.

"This one will be asking questions, not you. Now, where is Valentine?"

Rico swallowed, then took a deep breath. "I'm saying nothing."

His questioner sighed. The finger bent back...back...

Rico bit back a scream as pain exploded in his hand. He stared at the finger, twisted horribly out of alignment, and whimpered.

"There are over two hundred bones in your body that are _not_ broken, Rico." He watched his ring finger started to bend back in an invisible grip. "How many you have left when this is over is up to you. As is whether you walk away...or never walk again. _Where is Valentine?_"

Icy terror shot up his spine as the pressure built in his finger. "T-the Villa!" he blurted out. "He's at the V-villa."

"And where is this Villa?"

"East of town. Ou-out on the bluffs. Please, don't do it!"

He shuddered as the tension on his finger lessened, then disappeared, and he felt the creature release him. "Good," his captor hissed. "This is better, would you not agree? Now, tell this one about the 'Villa.' How is it protected? How many guards does it house?"

Rico told him everything, trying his hardest not to think about what his employer would do when they found him. He couldn't answer all the questions, but he knew enough, and he couldn't muster the will to hold anything back. He was still babbling ten minutes later when he realized there was nobody there to listen.

* * *

**I finally managed to jump-start this story, after years of disuse. I spent a lot of time, tinkering with what I'd already written, but it's been too long, and my writing style has changed too much for me to continue writing in that vein. For those thinking I've radically overhauled the story, that isn't the case, though I have adjusted a few details.**

**I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed that story, and I have done my best to take your criticism to heart while writing this piece. Unlike last time, there is an outline, and the next chapter is in the process of being edited, so I'm going to try and post a chapter a week. With luck, it'll be all up by the end of summer. Afterward, the rest of my older stories should see a similar treatment.**

**Note: I thought about trying to work this into the first chapter, but I felt it would be too hard to fit it in naturally. For those wondering, this story takes place a year before Eggman first tries to take over the world, which will become more important as the story goes on. **


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